


i’m not a bad girl (but i do bad things with you)

by softblakegriffin, va_lentina



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anniversary celebration, Blood Kink, Draco loses it, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Head Boy Draco Malfoy, Head Girl Hermione Granger, Hermione Granger & Theodore Nott Friendship, Hermione wears a little thingy, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Idiots in Love, Jealous Draco Malfoy, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Possessive Draco Malfoy, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Post-War, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Resolved Sexual Tension, Shameless Smut, Smut, Theo is a Little Shit, he enjoys it tho (kinda), very light
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-15 08:00:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29680860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softblakegriffin/pseuds/softblakegriffin, https://archiveofourown.org/users/va_lentina/pseuds/va_lentina
Summary: It’s Draco and Hermione’s three months anniversary, but he’s been busy and they’ve barely seen each other all day.Too bad she had a gift for him.Some would say such a gift is not appropriate for a good Gryffindor girl like her.Well, let the Head Boy be the judge of that.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 10
Kudos: 145





	i’m not a bad girl (but i do bad things with you)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
> This idea popped into our minds a while ago when we saw some ~interesting~ dresses, but we weren’t really planning on doing anything with it. It’s only after the incredible amount of love we received for our [Valentine’s fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29375874) (for which we _are_ working on a sequel btw) that we started writing some more smut just for fun and then this one shot was born.  
> We hope you enjoy it!!  
> Thank you to the one and only [Isla](https://archiveofourown.org/users/islabbe/pseuds/islabbe) for beta-ing, we love you!!  
> Have fun :)  
> S&V

* * *

* * *

“Didn’t know you were the type who reads third-class petrol station erotica.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re literally handing me the book, Granger.”

“Look, Nott,” Hermione says, pushing the book against Theo’s chest and glancing furtively at their sides to check that they were still alone in the library corridor. “You specifically asked for badly written _yet_ entertaining Muggle literature. There you go.” Grabbing his hand, she puts it over the book so that he holds it, then crosses her arms.

“So you bought it just for me. How thoughtful,” he smirks, knowing damn well the truth she would have never willingly admitted to him. He turns the book around in his hands, inspecting the cover. “He looks like the classical dark-and-beautiful. Is he a gentleman?”

“Wouldn’t know.”

“Maybe I’ll have to ask Ginny.”

Hermione rolls her eyes. “Be my guest. Where’s mine?”

Theo shoves the book into his bag and takes out an ancient manual with a thick leather cover. It comes straight out of his family library. “Careful with this. It bites.”

“Figuratively?”

“Oh, no. It literally bites.”

Hermione chuckles and carefully puts it into her satchel.

“Right. We’re done, then. See you.”

She spins on her heels with a twirl and she’s already a few steps down the corridor, when Theo reaches for her wrist and stops her in her tracks. Turning around, she sees his brows arched in gleeful wonder. Hermione huffs and opens her mouth to tell him she doesn’t have time for his teasing – she’s already late for class, for Godric’s sake – but then her gaze follows Theo’s, realising exactly what he has noticed.

A smirk pulls up the corner of her lip.

“Subtle enough?”

“Was an idea borrowed from your book?”

Her tongue clicks. “I can come up with good ideas all by myself, thank you, Nott.”

Biting his lip, he looks at her with a mischievous smile as he lets her go. “He’s going to lose his fucking mind.”

-

Hermione shifts into her chair, earning the umpteenth look from Lavender.

“What? Mind the lesson,” she snaps in a whisper.

“You keep fidgeting. You’re distracting me,” the girl replies, still trying to understand what it is that’s keeping her classmate from finding some peace. “You look like someone charmed your skirt to tickle you. What was that spell…?”

“Rictumsempra. I’ve not been charmed, though, don’t worry about me,” Hermione murmurs, scribbling something on the paper to pretend she’s still actually listening to the lesson.

Maybe she hasn’t completely thought this through. Well, actually, she had expected to bump into _him_ way earlier in the day; instead, breakfast passed and he wasn’t there, lunch passed and she barely even managed to wave at him, classes came and went and none of them was shared with him…

She mindlessly crosses her legs, uncrossing them promptly as soon as Lavender’s small gasp reaches her ears.

“What in Merlin’s name…”

“Shut up,” she sushes her quickly, readjusting the fabric over her thighs.

“ _Hermione_ …”

“Hush!” she repeats, softly slapping her friend’s hand with her quill. “Close your mouth.”

Lavender catches her lower lip with her teeth, eyes gleaming.

The brunette looks straight ahead but she can feel the blonde’s gaze lingering on her. She exhales from her nose, turning to look at her and waving around impatiently. “Just say it.”

“It actually suits you.”

Hermione has to bite the inside of her cheek to hold back a laugh.

“Where did you get it?”

She beams, a peculiar glint in her gaze. “Muggle shop.”

Her friend purses her lips together, a naughty smile taking over her features before clearing her throat.

“Like the ones…?”

“Yes.”

“Cool.”

The two girls exchange another meaningful look before turning their heads back to their parchments.

Lavender leans in after a moment. “It’s another idea for George, I guess. For the shop.”

“Oh, it definitely is,” Hermione whispers back, “but I want to test it first.”

“Test it? Did you–” the blonde covers her mouth to stifle a gasp. “Did you _charm_ it?”

Hermione’s grin is the most angelical thing she has ever come up with. “Well, yes, I have. Why limit the fun?”

“And you’ve been going around wearing it all day?”

She grunts a little at that. “He seems to be exceptionally busy today.”

“He’s going to regret every other engagement he had today that was not you, mark my words. You’re the biting type.”

“I surely hope he does,” she chuckles quietly.

“Ladies, is everything in order?” Flitwick calls them when Lavender’s giggles are a bit too loud and reach his ears.

“Sorry, professor. Yes, all good,” the girl says, holding up her inked quill to show she’s ready to take notes.

After some minutes, she scribbles something on the corner of her parchment and slides it to Hermione’s side.

_occasion?_

_three months_

_already???_

Hermione shrugs, but the happiness in her eyes is hardly missed by Lavender. Truth be told, it could hardly be missed by anyone, now that she stops and muses about how it’s been three entire months already. It’s exhilarating. Her heart flutters and her mouth curls in a soft smile at the thought of how it started, so out of the blue, and then how it kept going, overcoming every obstacle they had to face.

A classmate’s high voice pulls her from her thoughts. Shaking her head, she slides the piece of paper back in front of Lavender and focuses on her book and the spell at hand.

-

Sitting at the table in the Great Hall, Hermione is going over some of her friends’ essays, “just to double check, thank you, you’re an angel”, while occasionally chipping in the conversations that are happening around her. Reading a paragraph that mixes up Emeric the Evil and Uric the Oddball, she reaches for her quill to mark down the corrections, when a hand snakes around her shoulders and someone slips on the seat next to her.

She turns around with a pert smile. “Good evening to you, too, stranger.”

“That’s the cold welcome I didn’t expect.”

“What _did_ you expect? You’ve barely talked to me the whole day,” she sniffs.

The boy smirks, something twinkling in his grey eyes. “You’re right. Should I make it up to you?”

“Um,” she pretends to think about it for a second, before looking at him determinedly. “Yeah,” and she pulls him in by his tie for a kiss.

Draco moves his hand over her shoulder to find the nape of her neck, gently pressing to draw her closer to him. Before they can lose themselves in the kiss, someone shouts to get a room and he pulls back with a chuckle, while Hermione turns around to very politely show the finger to whoever decided to interrupt their very private, although in a public space, moment.

Moving her hair to the side, she reluctantly turns back to the essay as Draco greets the rest of the people sitting at the Gryffindor table and exchanges small talk, every now and then looking over to the Slytherin table to check whether a friend of his arrived or not. His hand remains around Hermione’s shoulders, lazily stroking her up and down and fiddling with the collar of her shirt.

When she puts the essay back into her bag, the Hall is almost completely full of people waiting for dinner to be served.

Draco leans in, whispering in her ear, “A little bird told me that today is a big day.”

Hermione tries to keep her face straight, while slowly crossing her legs.

He doesn’t notice.

“Is it, now?”

“Hm. Something about a three months milestone.”

“Sounds like a call for celebration.”

“I agree,” he says meeting her eyes. His gaze flashes with filthy promises.

Hermione slowly runs her tongue over her lips. “You have something in mind?” Her hands move to her skirt, ironing imaginary wrinkles; his eyes are quick to follow them.

“A couple of ideas, yes,” he says huskily, following the motion on her thigh. His fingers tangle in her curls, knuckles brushing the nape of her neck. “But after dinner, I’m starving. I was thinking, maybe meet me–”

The words die in his mouth when Hermione pushes the fabric up a few inches. She waits in silence, absolutely amused and definitely aroused by the way his pupils are dilating the longer he stares at her thigh.

“Yes?”

Draco tries to speak, but all that comes out is a choked sound.

She goes to readjust the skirt back in its place but he is quicker and grabs her wrist, blocking her movement. His fingers extend to touch her soft skin, and he fails in stifling a deep growl when his pads trace the metal on her leg.

Around Hermione’s leg, right where usually a garter should be placed, there’s a thin band of golden metal, modeled in the shape of a slender-bodied snake. Its head peeks from the hem of her skirt, forked tongue resting on her flesh, while its body wraps her thigh in a firm grip.

A beat passes where none of them seem to breathe. Then Draco’s eyes snap back to hers, and Hermione can read his intentions in them extremely clearly. 

He’s not interested in dinner anymore.

People are still talking around them, unaware of the sparking tension building up between the pair or purposely ignoring it.

“There’s this funny thing I made it able to do…”

Reaching for her wand, Hermione flicks it almost imperceptibly. The golden metal comes alive, tightening its hold around her thigh with a hiss. The tongue darts in and out in a flash, and the engraved eyes sparkle for a second.

Draco looks back at the snake with eyes wide open, his fingers slowly but surely digging into her wrist more and more. He doesn’t hurt her though, he never does. On the contrary, she delights in his firm and solid grip. 

“But, as you said, after dinner,” she quips. “I’ve been wearing it the whole day anyway, so what’s a couple of hours more.”

In the second it takes her to realise that he isn’t touching her anymore, Draco has already collected all of her books and papers and stood up, proclaiming in a ridiculously high tone that there’s something that needs the immediate attention of the Head Boy and Girl, so Granger must go with him, and that no, they shouldn’t worry about dinner, they’ll just pop by the kitchens afterwards, I mean, Granger knows all the elves anyway, doesn’t she?

Hermione winks at Lavender as the girl wiggles her eyebrows at her from a few seats down the table, and she manages to exchange a quick look with Theo when Draco bumps into him at the entrance of the Great Hall and hastily shoves him out of the way as he drags an excited Hermione behind him. Their friend shouts something about being dinner time anyway, so they can take their time with whatever urgent need must be tackled, but Hermione is too focused on trying not to stumble behind her boyfriend’s long steps to pay Theo enough attention.

It’s only when Draco finds a dark enough classroom that he drives them away from the candle-lit corridor. The door slams shut and locks itself obeying the charm he mutters quickly, and then Hermione’s bag has fallen loudly on the floor and he’s pinning her against the wall, hands roaming over her clothed body and mouth capturing hers in a searing kiss.

“You must have gone completely insane,” he growls into her ear as he pushes himself more against her and Hermione feels the uncomfortable cold of the stone at her back.

“Silly me, thinking you might have liked it,” she retorts, hoisting her leg up so that it’s securely locked around Draco’s hip while his fingers grip her waist, holding her still against the flat surface.

“If you think this is me disliking it, oh, do I have news for you, Granger,” he says hoarsely, bucking his hips up against her centre, and Hermione lets out a breathless moan at the feeling of his hardness through their clothes.

It’s not like she didn’t know the little trick was going to make him come undone on the spot, but still, having the physical confirmation of just how _genius_ her idea was is definitely a plus that she’s not going to turn down.

Draco’s hand shifts from her waist down to her hip, pulling the skirt up and letting his fingers dig into the soft skin of her thigh, as he trails up towards the metal object. His mouth moves along her jawline and then down her neck, biting and sucking as his hand grips on her leg. 

Hermione’s head tilts to the side, giving him even more room to lave at her throat; he traces her pulse point as his fingers finally find their way to the golden serpent. She grips on his shoulders, fisting the shirt that she’d love nothing else but to be on the floor, and starts canting her hips trying to find some friction…

When Draco lets her go.

“ _Fuck!_ ” he exclaims pulling back. “What the…” shocked, he looks at his hand. There are tiny drops of blood on two of his fingertips.

It takes Hermione a moment to realise what’s happening. She shakes the pleasure-induced haze from her brain and brings her attention to her boyfriend’s hand.

Slowly, a huge, smug grin makes its way to her features. She does her best to morph it into a graceful, innocent smile when she looks up at him.

“Everything okay, Malfoy?”

He looks at her in between confusion and outrage. “Did that thing just _bite_ me?”

Pulling up the hem of her skirt, Hermione traces the metal snake on her leg with her own index finger. After a few seconds when nothing happens, she peeks up at him from under her eyelashes. “Dunno. It did?” her voice is a sweet purr. “Must be the jealous type.”

Draco is holding his bitten fingers in his mouth, sucking away the blood drops and frowning at the metal monstrosity, but his head springs back up at Hermione’s low voice. He quickly reduces the distance he put between them, crowding the little space around her; tentatively, his hand moves to rest over hers on the snake. 

His heavy breathing warms her collarbone making her sigh; Hermione gives him a small smile and then she slides her finger away from under his. The moment Draco’s pads touch the golden metal, the snake’s head twists around and bites him again.

The blond hisses through his teeth and she fails to hold a chuckle.

“Entertained, Granger?”

“Quite.”

“This thing doesn’t seem to like me.”

“Told you. Must be the jealous type.”

“Though, I say it should learn to stay in its place.”

“Looks to me that it’s doing nothing _but_ staying in its place.”

Draco looks at the thick and round drop of blood that’s perched on the tip of his index. “Hm, you think?” he whispers, moving his other hand to Hermione’s chin, thumb hovering on her lips. “I think it’s taking liberties it shouldn’t over your body.”

“Care to elaborate?” she speaks huskily, half-lidded eyes fixed on his thumb, right in the way of her hot string of breath. She licks her lips unconsciously. 

“I think,” he says, tightening his grip on her chin to make her mouth open slightly, “it’s not its job to choose who can and who cannot put their hands on your body.” He raises his bleeding finger and traces Hermione’s lower lip, leaving a trail of red blood to mark her mouth.

“Namely, I think it’s not its job to decide _I_ can’t put my hands on your body.” He slips his index finger inside her waiting mouth, and Hermione wraps her tongue around it. The ironlike taste of blood sends a shiver down her spine and an involuntarily moan erupts from the back of her throat, eyes flickering shut.

“If anything,” Draco goes on, “ _I_ am the one who decides who can and who cannot put their hands on your body.”

Hermione gives a hard suction, teeth gently biting down.

“Who says you can do that?” she asks, parting her lips just enough to talk before twirling her tongue around his long finger.

“I say it.”

She hums with a smirk, before taking him out of her mouth. “If anything,” she mocks him, “ _I_ decide who can and who cannot put their hands on _my_ body.”

Draco’s lips stretch in a sinful smile as he traces her side profile with his palm, from her ribcage to her hip.

“So I should be thankful that I get to do this?” he says when he finds his way under her skirt again, nails grazing her bare skin.

“You most certainly should,” she tells him, widening her stance to allow him more access.

“Why, then, Granger, thank you,” he bows his head, warm hand slipping to the inner part of her thigh. “For granting me the honor to have you as my property.”

“I’m not your _property_ , Malfoy,” her breath itches on his name as his fingers start tracing the hem of her pants.

He hums, avoiding her gaze and grinning to no one in particular.

“You are when you’re wet for me, Hermione,” and he cups her pussy over the drenched fabric, one finger circling her sensitive button with a feather-like touch.

Whimpering, Hermione leans in to find his mouth while pushing herself against his hand to find the contact she’s becoming too desperate for.

“See? Just like I thought,” he growls, and she bites his lip in retaliation, bringing her arms around his shoulders to pull him closer and deepen the kiss.

There’s no other way around it: the banter gets her every time. And, yeah, maybe the holier-than-thou part of her brain is shaking its head at her from its pedestal of righteousness, but, honestly? Fuck it. Hearing Draco Malfoy whisper in her ear that he has a right to her because he can make her pants soaked with just a look turns her on like nothing else does and embarrassingly fast. So. Fuck it. 

As their tongues play together, Draco moves her damp knickers aside and his lean fingers sink into her folds, gathering her wetness and using it to massage her clit, earning a loud moan from her. Hermione breaks the kiss and her head falls back against the wall, leaving the column of her neck open for his mouth to descend on it, which he promptly does. He sucks, nips and bites, making sure to leave marks on every centimetre of her skin before soothing it with soft, open-mouthed kisses as his fingers keep toying with her juices.

“You hear that sound?” he says when he collects some more of her slickness from her entrance. “You hear the sound your pussy makes as it keeps gushing on my fingers? It’s obscene. I love it.” He licks her ear lobe, flicking his tongue around it, then scraps his teeth against the shell of her ear earning a gasp from her. “I love the filthy sounds you make because of me.”

“Draco, please…” Hermione breathes, making an effort to form actual words and not just incoherent stutter.

“Please? Please what?” he repeats, lips firmly attached to the spot right under her ear that he discovered makes her knees wobble. He knows all her weaknesses by now and never fails to use them against her, the bastard.

“Just… I-I need you… to… inside…” she stammers as he picks up his pace on her clit, hand completely drenched in her juices. 

“But, oh, Granger… I’m afraid _something_ around here might not agree with your request,” he whispers as his fingers move down to tease her entrance, thumb still rubbing her engorged clit. “Apparently, you’ve given a piece of metal the same access to you that I have.”

“M-Malfoy, just…”

“I can’t risk having my fingers bitten again, can I?”

Hermione’s brain can’t focus anymore, registering only touches and sensations. She just wants him to push inside and give her her long awaited release, and she needs him to do it fast because otherwise she might just go crazy.

But Draco keeps playing her like an instrument, flicking and picking her sensitive spots, and she whimpers in his arms. 

“What is it, Granger?”

She hates him when he plays stubborn and teases her until she screams in frustration. Absolutely adores how delirious he makes her, how free she can feel with him, her magic humming and burning inside her – nothing else compares. But, also, she really fucking hates him.

“What do you want?”

“In… inside…” she half whines and half grunts, trying to angle her hips to impale herself on his fingers. He stops her right away though, firmly holding her against the wall. 

He leans in, nuzzling his nose in her neck until he reaches her ear lobe again and tugs on it with his teeth. Like she said, he loves to exploit her weaknesses. 

“Say you’re mine.”

Hermione squeezes her eyes shut and sees little fireworks of lights spark in the darkness as her whole body spasms in his grip.

“Say it. Say you’re mine, and you won’t have to beg for anything else,” he breathes sinfully, still stroking her folds and letting his voice tickle her ear.

If only she could speak.

“Just say it. I’ll take care of you.”

She swallows, pinching her brows together, trying to make her mouth do what she wants it to do, but it looks like she has no control over her body anymore.

“It’s… I…”

Again, that perfectly virtuous part of her brain lights up, horrified at the mess she’s reduced to with a few simple words and at the lengths she’s willing to go to have an orgasm. But, again: fuck it.

“Come on, darling.” Pet name. Her throat makes a lewd sound. (Fuck it.) “You won’t have to worry about a thing.” Her walls clench around nothing. (Fuck it.) “I like to make you scream anyway.” _Fuck it_.

Another loud moan runs out of her lips, and she focuses all of her energies into twisting that string of breath into a word.

“Yours,” she finally exclaims. “It’s just yours, everything, all… all yours.”

Draco’s fingers stop their ministrations immediately, and she whines at the loss. She’s aching and she _needs_ him. But, before she can begin to say anything, he suddenly drops to his knees, slips her pants down her legs and shoves them into his back pocket.

As soon as he brushes against the golden snake, the animal comes to life, trying to find its way to his hand again. This time, Hermione has enough sense of mind to stop it with a small motion of her hand. The serpent slithers up her body under her clothes, up and up until it circles her neck, where it rests motionless as a necklace. The moment the creature locks in its new position, a deep, growling moan leaves Hermione’s mouth, a combination of the cold metal caressing her body and of Draco pressing his lips to her dripping core.

She tangles her hand in his tousled hair, gripping hard and pushing his face against her centre, trying to find something to hold on to with the other. Failing, she lets her muscles relax when one of Draco’s arms reaches up to move around her waist, holding her in place while his tongue twirls around her clitoris and laps up her juices. When two fingers finally slip in her, Hermione’s eyes roll in the back of her head and her body erupts into flames. 

Shamelessly rolling her hips against his face, she ignores the voice in her brain that’s scolding her for being eaten out and fingerfucked in a semi public place at dinner time seeing as it’s not a behaviour suitable for a good girl like her. 

Well. One could argue that she stopped being a good girl the moment she, the Gryffindor princess, decided to wear a golden snake around her thigh. 

But anyways, this is not the time for overthinking. Scratch that, this is not the time for any kind of thinking, given how Draco is stripping her of even the awareness of her own name. He plays with her attentively and yet unpredictably, moaning with every new stroke of his tongue as if he’s been hungry his whole life before finding her, and only now he can finally know satiety.

He pumps his skilful fingers in and out, sucking and kissing and licking like this is the very first time he gets to do it or, alternatively, like he’s sure he will never get a second chance to feast on her. Hermione’s trembling hand leaves his head, reaching her own clothing: she loosens her tie and shoves it away, opening her buttons to touch where Draco can’t, his hands already occupied.

Grey eyes flash at her from between her legs, and, if she was actually looking, she’d see the smirk pulling up his cheek when her fingers hastily pull her bra down to let her breasts slip out of it. Hermione doesn’t see it, but she _does_ feel his low growl, and the vibration against her already overstimulated cunt sends a crash of pleasure down her spine.

She tweaks her nipple right when Draco crooks her fingers inside of her, and the scream she lets out could awaken a wild giant.

“Yes! There, I’m… close… oh…” she gasps, her breathing erratic, and she only faintly registers it when the snake starts moving again, down towards her chest. Its tail slips away from her shoulder to better wrap around her neck, while the head inches to her naked breast, making her shiver when the cold metal touches her sensitive nipple.

Overwhelmed by pleasure, Hermione tries to understand why the serpent moved without Draco having touched it, but the thought slips away quickly when he swaps his fingers with his mouth, his tongue slipping inside of her as he drinks in her gushing wetness. He starts brushing her clit at a maddening speed and her back arches; his nails graze it and she flinches, squealing at the new sensation. 

As he keeps rubbing tight circles on her apex, his mouth fucks her, and her own fingers pinch and pull at her breast, the snake bites her nipple and Hermione’s taut coil finally snaps, leaving her shaking breathlessly into his arms following the waves of her orgasm.

When she comes back to her senses, Draco is back on his feet, still holding her securely, leaving lazy kisses on her breastbone and whispering soothing words. Notes of “you’re so pretty” and “good to me” and “magnificent” reach her ears, filling her already brimming heart with even more affection for this boy. She smiles softly and raises a hand to comb it through his white-blond hair.

His warm lips trail down her curves until they gently caress her nipples. 

“What happened here?” he says when he sees small drops of blood on her otherwise unblemished skin. (Well, as unblemished as it can be, with a lover who marks her as much as he can.)

Hermione looks down. “Oh. I think the snake bit me.”

Draco eyes the red drops with a disgruntled frown. “Jealous little thing. Bit too jealous.”

“I need to work on the charm. If you could pass me my wan–mmh,” she trails off when he lets her nipple slip inside his mouth, sucking the blood away and massaging it with his tongue.

He holds out a hand and mentally _Accio_ ’s her wand, placing it into her hand. All that comes out of Hermione’s mouth, though, are small and low whimpers, and it takes her a long couple of minutes before she can get through the dizziness in her brain caused by Draco’s skilful mouth on her tit and his fingers toying with her other nipple. She finally does when she feels the snake moving again, and she stops it with a flip of her wand, right before it can bite someone again.

“Beautiful,” he’s murmuring against her, unaware of the peril she just saved him from, his warm breath making her shiver in the coldness of the empty room now that she’s not in the throes of orgasm anymore. “My beautiful witch. Perfect.” 

His hands circle her body wrapping around her back, fingers tracing on her spine. “And mine.”

_His._

Her heart swells and her magic, too, seems to buzz at his words. 

She brings her hand under his chin, silently asking him to look up at her. He pouts when he has to break the contact with her breast, but gives her a smile when she leans in for a sweet delicate kiss.

It lasts longer than the kisses they’ve shared until now, more meaningful somehow, even though she can taste herself on him. It’s deep but unhurried, both of them taking their time to pour their emotions in every touch. Draco’s tenderness makes her breath catch. 

Hermione bores her eyes into his when she pulls away.

“Hey.”

“Hm?” 

Another honey-like peck. His hands spread over her back like it was always meant to only rest in them. It’s something that surprised her at the beginning, when they first started dating. They fit together in all the right places. 

They are a breath apart when she speaks the next three words.

“I love you.”

It’s the first time, after three months (four, should you consider their previous no-strings-attached arrangement). And… well. After a great deal of other things to be considered. They have been through a lot, individually and together. 

But it comes spontaneously, naturally, and Hermione has learned that life is way too short to hold back spontaneous, albeit unexpected, truths.

Draco blinks. Once, twice. Shock, and a whole other bunch of emotions flash in his eyes, and she holds her breath and worries that she said it too soon and…

The happiest smile she’s ever seen reaches up to his eyes, brightening them up like it was broad daylight around them.

He straightens himself, draws her close and away from the stone wall, relishing the warmth of her body into his arms, and brings a hand to the nape of her neck as they meet in a fierce kiss. He’s almost breathless when he pulls back, with his free hand softly stroking her cheek, eyes looking for the deepest part of her soul and easily finding it. He knows where and how to look, by now. 

“I love you, too.”

Hermione beams at him, eyes shining with happy tears, and sinks into his embrace, sighing contentedly. Her heart is soaring and she feels his pounding in his ribcage. She might be imagining it, but she’s pretty sure they’re both beating as one.

Draco waits a few moments before leaning in, his breath tickling her ear.

“Can I still fuck you now or am I ruining the moment?”

She snorts, but can’t help the giggles escaping her mouth. Looking up from her favourite place to be, cocooned in his chest, she eloquently raises her eyebrows.

“What do you think I wore the snake for? Fuck me, Draco Malfoy.”

He chuckles darkly and walks her back against the wall.

“This fine or you prefer the floor? Or, I don’t know… the desks…”

“Wall,” she states in a commanding tone, the hunger for his body renewed, hands already fumbling with his trousers to zip them open and free him. 

She teases him, her knuckles grazing his hard length and Draco groans in half-pain and half-pleasure. He’s been aching since the moment he saw her little animal friend. Hermione can be an insufferable witch, too, sometimes. Too impatient to play, though, she takes him in her fist mere seconds later, a moan escaping her in anticipation of the sweet bliss that is feeling him inside of her.

“Wait, are your post-dinner ideas still valid? Because, otherwise, I’ll gladly return the favour now…” she begins, mouth already watering, but Draco stops her, crowding her against the hard surface and towering over her small figure.

“Still valid, yes ma’am. Whatever your clever little brain is thinking, keep it in mind for later but let _me_ handle this now,” he tells her in a low rumble, and his trousers fall messily around his ankles. “Remember? Said I was going to take care of you.”

“‘Cause I’m yours,” she says, reaching for the elastic band of his boxer briefs to push it down.

“‘Cause you’re mine,” he repeats, ending the phrase in a growl when Hermione’s fist starts moving up and down his shaft.

Eyes flickering shut, Draco leans against the wall with his palms on either side of her face, head slightly thrown back as she keeps stroking him. She brings her free hand to his jaw, making him look down at her so she can capture his mouth with hers, purring into it as she feels his veins against her palm and drops of precum wetting her fingers. 

The moment he starts breathing rapidly, her thumb massaging his sensitive tip, that’s when she quickly tucks the front part of her skirt in its waistband, raises her leg to lock it around his upper leg, and brings his length to her entrance.

They breathe the same heavy air for a moment. When she feels her cunt achingly clench around nothing, he finally slips inside with one precise movement and they both gasp when he fills to the brim.

“You know,” he says, slowly pulling out and then back in, “I had a joke ready. About dinner.”

“It’s really not the time,” she breathes through her gritted teeth.

“It was supposed to be after dinner,” he goes on ignoring her as he starts fucking her in a steady rhythm, “because I had a pun about me, you and dessert.”

Hermione can’t help but let out a laughing sound through her nostrils. “That is the single most idiotic thing I’ve ever heard. And I heard a lot of idiotic things.”

“Bet. Being friends with–”

“Please, don’t mention Harry and Ron while your dick is inside of me,” she says, raising a hand to put it over his mouth and closing her eyes at the unsolicited thought. Draco chuckles, moving his head around to set himself free; then starts thrusting into her in retaliation and Hermione’s breath catches, her head falling on his shoulder.

She clutches on him, nails digging into his back muscles, and she feels the cold and oddly shaped surface of the stone wall behind her scratch her shirt every time he pushes inside, making her move up and down.

Draco holds her firmly in his hands, but his mouth wanders around every centimetre of her that he can reach, moving from her ears, to her jaw, to her neck and then down her collarbone and the silky skin of her breasts. He stops there to feast on his second favourite part of her body: he sucks on her nipples, biting, licking, nipping, kissing and squeezing, leaving marks she’s sure will last days.

Hermione’s moans are becoming more and more just random strings of vowels, punctuated by guttural sounds that, paired with her nails scratching down his back, make Draco accelerate the pace of his thrusts.

When she feels his mouth trace the shape of the snake around her neck, leaving a wet and warm trail right where the freezing coldness of the metal touches her skin, her head spins and she grips on him like he’s the only thing keeping her upright. Feeling her slowly lose control of her body, Draco readjusts her position making sure that he can reach a deeper spot. The loud gasp that leaves her lips is matched by his groan when he feels her walls squeeze tightly around him.

“There we go.”

“Don’t… oh my God… make a joke about dessert.”

He laughs, strengthening his hold with one arm before bringing two fingers to her lips, silently telling her to lick them. She twirls her tongue around them, sucks and moans, making Draco growl.

“Fuck, Granger. You really love having me in your mouth, huh?”

She makes a sultry sound in response, looking up at him with devilish eyes, before releasing him with a pop. His lips immediately descend on hers, while his wet fingers reach down to her folds. As their kiss gets rougher, his pounding becomes faster and faster and Hermione is full on swearing and throwing curses at imaginary beings when he rubs her clit. She feels all of her energy and senses focusing on her snapping point, gathering up in her lower belly and pushing against the exit door impatiently, desperately needing to burst it open and flood out.

Her walls squeeze him in a vice, and Draco leans down with a low rumble, muttering nonsensical filth in her ear.

When a faint “I got you. C’mon, Hermione, I got you” makes its way to her brain, she screams right as the rush of overwhelmingly blissful pleasure runs down her spine and spreads throughout her body. Legs shuddering, she feels him drive into her throbbing core and, less than a dozen thrusts later, he spills into her, gasping loudly with his face pressed to her temple.

They stay like that for a while, holding onto each other and trying to catch their breath. When his heart has stopped hammering into his chest, Draco carefully slips out of her and Hermione slowly slides down the wall to sit on the floor after casting a Scourgify. He fixes his clothes, grabs her bag and sits next to her, burying his head in it and then emerging victorious with some tissues in his hand. Grabbing one to clean the stickiness between her legs, Hermione scoffs; as if they’re not the best wizard and witch at Hogwarts. She secretly loves that he does small things in the muggle way, though.

As she cleans herself, she holds out a hand without even looking at him. “Pants.”

“Right,” he mumbles, reaching for his back pocket. “Was kind of hoping you’d forget. It would have been quite hot.”

“How incredibly barbaric of you,” she says half-heartedly, slipping her knickers on and leaning in to press a light kiss on his mouth. “I’m going back to Gryffindor tower anyway, I need a toilet and a change of clothes,” she stands up and tries to fix her ensemble as best as she can. 

She stretches out a hand to help Draco on his feet. “Meet you…?”

“Kitchens in twenty. Thirty. Maybe a bit more.”

He ignores the curious gaze from Hermione, pulls out his wand and flicks it to Alohomora the door, checking behind them if they collected all of their stuff before heading out after her.

The pair walks back towards the Great Hall to then split up to go to their respective dorms, but, before they can say their momentary goodbye, a sniggering voice calls from a nearby corner.

“Went as I said it would, didn’t it, love?”

Hermione bursts into laughter as Draco’s head snaps around, meeting Theo’s cheeky wink. It takes him a second to put two and two together.

“ _Nott_ knew?!”

“I see the charming little creature made its way up to higher places,” Theo comments with a glint in his eyes. “You might want to get rid of your pretty necklace before entering the lion’s den,” he adds aloof, walking past them to reach the staircase going down to the Slytherin dorm.

Hermione shakes her head and sighs with a smile, addressing her fuming boyfriend. “He accidentally saw it in the library–”

“ _Nott_ saw it _before me?!?_ ”

**Author's Note:**

> We’d love to hear your thoughts <3 and know that asking for a sequel will make make Sara incredibly happy and Valentina incredibly miserable because she claims she has university matters to attend to (and yet she keeps opening new gdocs, sure honey).  
> You can find us on twitter as [@blkegrffn13](https://twitter.com/blkegrffn13) and [@fleablck](https://twitter.com/fleablck)  
>   
> This is also a gift for our multichapter fic ( _[Hermione’s pianist](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29081925/chapters/71387763)_ ) readers who received a shorter chapter this week, we hope you guys appreciate it <3  
> 


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